


Take my hand

by Sazfordayz



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Fluff, oblivious children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 21:38:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13749738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sazfordayz/pseuds/Sazfordayz
Summary: Marinette is persuaded into taking some dancing classes, thanks to Ms Alya Cesaire. It's a shame that her two left feet won't cooperate. Fortunately, one of Paris' heroes is on hand to help, feline charm and all.Meanwhile, Adrien can't quite believe his good luck. Somehow all those dance classes he took as a child are finally paying off...





	1. Chapter 1

Each of her steps fell neatly into place. Surefooted and confident, not a toe out of time. Below her, an accordionist was playing to entertain customers at the restaurant whose roof she was using as a dance floor. Though it was dark, the pattern of footsteps was clear in her mind as she moved to the music. She twisted and turned, dancing alone with her arms held out to a phantom figure for a partner. Her spins and footwork sped up as the music crescendoed. She was a red and black blur, moving faster and faster- it seemed as if she'd practised the same routine a million times over.  
Until suddenly, the song ended.  
As the notes from the accordion gave way to a muted applause, Marinette was jolted out of her trance. Blinking a couple of times in shock, realisation slowly sunk in. She’d just improvised an entire dance routine, without any effort on her part whatsoever. 

_Well. That’s just typical isn’t it._

Her shock quickly gave way to irritation. She huffed and stamped her foot, not caring if she was being childish.  
The grace and poise Marinette possessed whilst being Ladybug really was _miraculous._

A few weeks ago, as a present for her eighteenth birthday, Nino had taken Alya to some ‘Ballroom for beginners’ classes. And that was where all the trouble had begun, because she had gotten hooked.  
Ever since, Alya had been raving about the experience to anyone and everyone who would listen. This included all three Dupain-Chengs. Apparently, ballroom dancing was _‘a dying art’_ , which _‘more people needed to embrace’_ and it was _‘just so romantic’._  
Earlier that week (and after much begging), Alya had finally convinced Marinette to join a dance class with her. And somehow, like the persuasive force of nature she was, the Lady-blogger had even convinced the two elder Dupain-chengs to get on board; Tom and Sabine had signed up for a couple’s latin dance classes down at the town hall.  
While she adored her friend, in hindsight Marinette wished she had tried harder to say no. The first class had gone about as badly as is possible.  
Initially, the pair of instructors had taught the class some simple steps and demonstrated how to count the correct beats. One demonstrated the correct positions for leaders and the other mirrored the moves for the followers. All very basic stuff. This had only served to lure Marinette into a false sense of security. To her dismay, the class had progressed extremely quickly. All too soon they'd begun dancing in pairs and she was utterly lost.  
Maybe it was that they switched partners every five minutes or perhaps the music was too quick. It was difficult to pinpoint the downfall in her dancing capabilities. First, her left foot would be out of place, then her form would be wrong, but by that point she’d gone and gotten herself out of time. She tried not to think of the number of occasions when she’d stumbled into other dancing couples- the actual number must have been well into double-figures.  
She had tried so very hard to keep her two left feet to herself- Really, she had!- but despite her best efforts, everyone she’d danced with had been left with wincing expressions and bruised toes. By the end of the class, even Alya had been steering clear of her.  
_‘You’ll enjoy it!’_ she had said. _‘It’ll be fun!’_ she had said...

Sighing, Marinette slapped her hands over her masked face, willing away the memories of humiliation. It was not an experience that she had wanted to repeat; however, the classes continued twice a week for the next two months, and her parents had already paid the deposit. It wasn't ideal but she had resolved to keep going- make the most of the opportunity- and at the very least to try and not screw up as badly in the next class. Hence the midnight practising. Or rather, the attempt at practice...

_But, so much for that plan..._

One of her predecessors must have been quite the dancer, if her suit’s muscle memory was anything to go by. Marinette made a mental note to ask Tikki about that later. Either way, it was clear she wasn't going to learn much as her superhero alter ego.  
It was so very frustrating that the miraculous couldn’t pass the dancing prowess on to her civilian self. Practising as herself was so much more awkward and embarrassing. Her room and balcony were spacious enough but she tripped, stumbled and fell into things endlessly. What’s worse, her parents came to check on her every single time. It was nice that they cared, but she could hear the two giggling at her attempts every time they closed the hatch. Even Tikki couldn’t always hold back her laughter. Marinette supposed that she couldn’t really blame them. She’d long accepted the fact that she, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, was possibly the most clumsy, least graceful being in existence. At least when she wasn’t being Ladybug. 

Just as she was about to give up on the endeavour, detach her yoyo and swing herself home, the accordionist started up again. The song was slower and sweeter this time. Softer, more romantic.  
Something inside her resonated with the music. She could feel it’s lilting rhythm under her skin; could feel an instinctual urge to move. And for a moment she was torn: It was getting late and Marinette really ought to go get some sleep, lest she spend tomorrow morning asleep in class...  
But she wasn’t tired yet and neither was Tikki. One more flawless dance as Ladybug couldn’t hurt. After all, there was something thrilling about being so perfectly synchronised with the music.  
Closing her eyes, she emptied her mind and let the borrowed knowledge flow through her, guiding her movements. This time, as she danced, the story she was telling had more clarity. She could almost envision her invisible partner. The expanse of his chest and broad shoulders were near tangible, as he spun her across the floor. If she lifted her head a little, she was almost certain that she’d see his deep green eyes and catch a grin that made her weak at the knees.  
As the song rose, her fantasy got increasingly more vivid; she could almost smell his cologne, could imagine the feel of his hand on her waist, could almost believe that her hand was clasped in his leather black claws-

_Wait a second._

Ladybug cracked an eye open to find a partner who was very much real and not at all who she’d been imagining. She raised a brow at the sight of Chat noir and her feet came to a halt. Feeling a little foolish that she’d been pretending to dance with Adrien, she immediately pushed all thoughts of him to the back of her brain. That was something to address later.  
Back to the situation at hand, she decided that nonchalance was the best way forwards; her logic being, that if she pretended it was perfectly normal to be in costume, dancing a paired dance, alone, in the small hours of the night, on a random rooftop, then it was.

 

“Evening, Chatton.” She greeted him cooly.

“Fancy seeing you here, My lady.” He said, his grin only widening. “May I have this dance? It is a pawsitively puurrfect night for it.” His puns were the absolute worst. Ladybug felt betrayed by the fond smile his words coaxed from her. He was such a dork sometimes; but just as she had been about to reject his offer, she felt a word to the contrary leaving her mouth.

“...Alright.” Chat flinched ever so slightly in surprise. That clearly hadn’t been the response he’d expected. Well, it hadn’t been the response she’d intended either.  
“But no funny business.” she added hastily, narrowing her eyes up at him.

 

Immediately, he nodded- probably afraid she was going to change her mind- and offered a small, uncharacteristically shy smile. The two fell into a comfortable silence as he began to lead her in a gentle waltz, spinning and lifting her every so often.  
Chat was Ladybug’s equal for both herowork and dancing, it would seem. One of his fingers on her waist tapped along to the beat, ever so slightly; but Ladybug concentrated on keeping her mind clear, following his small cues. In terms of difficulty, it wasn’t much harder than when she’d been dancing alone. But still, it was different. Dancing with not just a friend but her partner, who she trusted absolutely, without fault. Dancing with him felt… Safe. Familiar. Unexpectedly so.  
Briefly, Marinette wondered if Chat’s dancing experience also stemmed from his miraculous. She was no expert but it seemed like there was more of a practised, non-feline motion to his steps. That and his unmistakable confidence as he led and she followed, suggested otherwise. 

 

“I didn't know you could dance, Chat.” She said, offhandedly. “You’re pretty good.” 

“Oh… It's really nothing special. I learnt when I was a kid.” He paused for a moment, before slipping a wink at her. “But it comes in handy every so often.” 

“Make a habit of dancing with unsuspecting girls, do you?” She teased.

“Nah. Just you, Bugaboo.”

“I knew you were going to say that. You’re getting too predictable.”

“Pawlease. You’ve been saying that fur years. Go on, admit it, you love the nickname really, and the puns.” She scoffed.

“Keep dreaming, kitty.”

 

Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she realised this was probably not the best of ideas. As Ladybug, she liked to keep certain boundaries between herself and her partner. For several very good and important reasons, she reminded herself. This was almost certainly crossing some line or another. But in that moment, as the pair glided across the skyline of Paris, she couldn’t quite bring herself to care. 

 

“So when did you learn to dance?” Chat asked, in an attempt to reignite conversation.

“I don’t dance.” She muttered quickly, receiving an understandable look of confusion. 

“I- err.” Chat phrased his words carefully. “-I didn’t think you were one for false modesty...”

“No really. This-” She looked down at herself. “-This dancing, it’s from the miraculous, not me. One of the past Ladybugs must have been a real dance prodigy.” Chat missed the bitter note to her statement, eyes widening in astonishment.

“What?! That’s amazing! I didn’t think- I mean back before just now- when you were dancing, _you looked incredible-_ ” 

“Did I now?” Ladybug smirked as Chat froze and immediately started backpedalling, avoiding eye-contact.

“I- I mean- The d-dance. Your dance was incredible!” Her smirk pulled even wider at the deep blush in Chat Noir’s ears, that his mask couldn’t hide.

“Watching me, were you?”

“Yes. Wait, No- I meant No! I wasn’t-”

What's wrong, mon Minou? Bug got your tongue?”

“I- I-” The panic on his face was so genuine, Ladybug couldn’t help but laugh.

“I'm kidding Chat, relax.” She said between giggles.

“Oh.”

 

Thankfully for Chat’s pride, the accordion music came to an end. He broke apart from her a little sheepishly, but his embarrassment didn’t stop him from bowing deeply. Ladybug curtseyed in return. 

“Well, it’s been nice seeing you, My lady, but I should really get going.” He still couldn’t quite meet her eyes as he unclipped his baton, ready to leave. “I- I’ve got things to do. My bed won’t sleep in itself and-” 

Marinette caught his hand before he could leap off the roof.  
Chat looked back at her in confusion. It was a mutual feeling. She wasn’t sure what had gotten into her this evening or why she’d grabbed his hand. All she’d wanted was to thank him before he skipped off into the night. With alternating patrol schedules, they didn't see each other regularly and that had been her first time properly dancing with anyone. Silencing her own doubts, she pulled him into a hug, wrapping her arms tight around his chest. 

“Thank you for the dance.” She whispered. “It was fun.” 

And before she could talk herself out of it, she pushed herself onto her toes and pecked his cheek. As Marinette, this may have been a difficult maneuver, since Chat’s most recent growth spurt had left him several inches above her petite frame. But Ladybug managed. She grinned at his shocked expression. Turning on her heel, she threw her yoyo and sprang off into the night, leaving a dumbfounded, slowly-reddening Chat Noir in her wake.


	2. Chapter 2

For the third time on his return trip home, Chat Noir nearly skidded off a roof. At the last moment, he managed to catch the gutter and hauled himself upright. He was more than a little distracted and it probably wasn’t the best state to be in whilst leaping from building to building. After all, how embarrassing would it be if anyone saw him slipping and sliding off the rooftops he supposedly ruled by night? What would Ladybug say? Panting, he leaned on a chimney pot to catch his breath, his thoughts inevitably circling back to the very same heroine in red and black.

Ladybug had been… amazing- no, mesmerizing? He didn’t have the words to describe her.  
She had been dancing.  
And then she’d danced with him.  
And then she’d kissed him on the cheek.  
His face burned. Paris could've been overrun by akuma and Hawkmoth could’ve been elected as mayor, but Chat Noir wouldn't have minded. With his head resting against his forearms, staring up at the moon, he looked the very definition of love-struck. 

She hadn’t been set to patrol that night. A few months back, after facing a string of nine akuma attacks in the space of a fortnight, the two had decided that balancing herowork and their regular lives was far too hectic. The pair had agreed on an alternating patrol schedule for all non-akuma related days, which Adrien was somewhat glad for. If he had stolen any more concealer, to hide the dark circles under his eyes, he was certain his father would have begun to ask questions. Now though, occasions when he saw Ladybug and they weren’t battling for their lives against Hawkmoth’s creations, were few and far between.  
In fact, he could count the number of times he’d seen her this month, on one hand. For some reason or another Hawkmoth had been strangely inactive: there hadn’t been an attack in weeks. Which, he uncomfortably had to remind himself, was a good thing. Even if it meant that he didn’t get to see Ladybug more often.  
Besides, absence made the heart fonder.  
He couldn’t believe his good luck earlier when he’d seen her. Seen her and then promptly forgotten how to breathe.  
It had seemed more like she was floating than dancing. Feet barely skimming the ground. She had been stepping and spinning to some lucky musician's song. With her bluebell eyes closed, just so, midnight hair whipping around her and that wry smile pulling at her face. Adrien was sure he had never seen anything so beautiful in his whole life. He’d also never been so glad for one of the skills forcibly imparted upon him as a child. Getting to dance with ladybug like that…  
He still couldn’t believe it. 

Alas, it was getting late. While Chat Noir could afford to stay out all hours of the night, Adrien Agreste could not. Just the thought of his ram-packed schedule was enough to make his shoulders droop with exhaustion. Dropping his arms to his sides, he rolled his neck and stretched out his shoulders, loosening up the muscles before he started on his way again. But before he could think about running off across rooftops or pole vaulting the length of Paris, his sensitive ears caught the sound of familiar music drifting from one of the nearby houses. Peering over the chimney pot, he realised that he recognised the neighbourhood and the house. He recognised the bakery, the balcony and the girl dancing on it, completely oblivious to his presence. The music he recognised from earlier that night, but unlike Ladybug’s serene expression when she had danced to the tune, Marinette’s was anything but.  
Chat slapped a hand across his mouth, trying not to laugh, as he watched his classmate stumble into a watering can, then into the balcony railing and finally down into a garden chair. His sides shook with the effort of keeping in his laughter, as she scowled and rubbed at her shins. After some deep breaths, she stood up rigidly, with a look of determination, fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. Clearly this wasn’t the first time she’d made an enemy of the inanimate objects occupying her balcony- with what Adrien knew of her, this didn’t surprise him. Slowly, she began again. From six years prior of ballroom lessons, Adrien was more than capable of recognising an attempt at a waltz, even if it wasn't quite perfect. 

_Huh._  
That made Marinette the second waltzing girl of the evening. To the same song even.  
_What a coincidence._

His attention was snapped up by the faint sound of her voice, as she muttered the beats to herself like a mantra. Counting to three over and over. In his head, he critiqued the progression of her steps. Left foot, right foot, feet together- _good_ \- then right foot, left foot- no it should have been the other left- no that wasn’t it- _Uh oh._  
Chat saw what would happen just moments before it did. Saw how her foot would land snuggly in the watering can she’d just knocked over, how she’d trip over the chair leg and that nice looking flower pot, before toppling over the railing- He didn’t stop, didn’t think. He moved before any of that could come to fruition, catching his classmate just before she could overturn her tulips. It took a moment for his thoughts to catch up with the rest of him. 

 

“Ch- Chat Noir? What are you-” He froze at the stuttering girl in his arms but quickly remembered himself. Straightening up, he propped her back on her feet.

“Hello Purrrrincess, I was just passing through and I thought your flowers deserved a few more months of life.” He bent down to pick up her watering can and made a point of placing it back down in the far corner, where it was much less likely to cause Marinette lasting damage. “...You really should be more careful.”

“R-right.” She hugged her arms to herself a little awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. “Thank you, I guess. Sorry for the trouble.” 

“You're more than welcome.” He grinned. “-Patrolling Paris, saving Princesses; it’s all in a day’s work.” Marinette smiled back and turned away quickly to fiddle with the settings on her speakers. For a second, Chat could have sworn she’d rolled her eyes at him, but she’d turned away too quickly for him to be certain. Either way, that was his cue to leave. Hopping up onto the balcony railing, Chat pulled out his baton, ready to go. 

But he stood motionless.  
He couldn’t go. Not yet. There was still something bothering him. It just couldn’t be a coincidence. There was _no way_ he’d caught both Marinette and Ladybug waltzing on the same night, to the same song no less. There had to be a connection. Mind made up, he sighed- sleep would have to wait a little longer- and spun on his heel, settling back down on the railing, legs dangling.

 

“...Before I go, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s with all the waltzing? New hobby or...” He trailed off. There were a few seconds of awkward silence- in which Chat began to wish he hadn’t said anything at all- before Marinette huffed a reply.

“It's all because of Alya. You know- the girl who runs the Ladyblog?”

“I think so... Always trying to get front row seats at every akuma attack?”

“Yup, that's her.” She sighed again, shoulders slumped in defeat. “Well, she’s my best friend and she convinced me to go to these dancing classes with her. Ballroom dancing. I'm really, really horrible at it, but the deposits been paid and I can't back out now, so…” 

“Ah. I see.” In fact, now that she mentioned it, Adrien did remember Alya talking about the classes. A lot. More to the point, he felt a sudden spike of guilt since he’d been the one to suggest that Nino take Alya ballroom dancing in the first place. He shifted uneasily. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Yes, it is a little. Not to worry, I’m making the most of it.” She forced a smile and turned back to her laptop, rewinding the song. “Goodnight Chat.” She called over her shoulder as the music began again.  
That was definitely an invitation to leave but he didn't. Instead, he sat silently, waging an internal battle as Marinette returned to her starting pose, facing away from him. She began the first few steps over, and inevitably messed up once more- twice more. Three times over. His guilt slowly grew with each misstep. Sighing in dissatisfaction, she turned to restart the music but stopped at the sight of him. Her brows furrowed in confusion at Chat sitting there, unmoved and lost in thought.

“Was there something else you wanted, Chat?” 

“-Do you need any help?” He blurted, regretting the words as soon as they were out. It wasn’t like Marinette knew Chat noir all that well. They’d met on a few occasions and this wasn’t the first time he’d chatted with her on her balcony but they weren’t exactly friends. The look of shock on her face was damning. 

“Oh.” She said. After a short silence, the two began to talk over each other, Chat hurrying to explain himself.

“I mean, I'm sure you'll pick it up with more practice-

“-it's really nice of you to offer-”

“-It’s just that I know how to dance and if you had needed some help, I’d be happy to help-”

“-I could probably use a hand-”

“-But I guess you don't really know me that well, so it's a bit a weird. I didn’t mean to intrude. I'll just go-” Chat could feel his face on fire as he turned around, actually ready to leave this time. What had he been thinking?  
He hadn’t.  
He hadn’t been thinking.  
Why did he always have to open his mouth and-  
Before he could leap into the night and let the darkness swallow up his embarrassment, he felt some resistance around his waist. When he glanced back, expecting to see his tail snagged against something, he saw that it was Marinette who had caught it. 

“Yes.” 

“Yes?” He echoed, at a loss. 

“Yes, Chat. If you're not busy, then I could really use a hand... I kind of suck.” She admitted, rubbing at the back of her neck. After taking a few seconds to process her words, Chat perked up. Adrien had gotten Marinette into this mess, albeit indirectly, and it was only fitting that he help her out of it.


	3. Chapter 3

This was not how her evening was supposed to have gone, Marinette told herself.  
She had been committed to practising alone, with no one around to watch her mistakes; Practising on some rooftop far from prying eyes, where her pride couldn’t be bruised. Though the plan had been doomed to fail - something she would’ve known had she consulted Tikki- there was no way she could’ve anticipated her partner showing up. And definitely not twice in one night. 

The same boy offering the same girl to dance. Even if said boy didn't know it.

His offer shocked Marinette. It was one thing for Chat Noir to offer a dance to Ladybug; expected, normal even. But Marinette must have been a really terrible dancer if Chat pitied her enough to offer his help at this time of night. That, or he really was the world’s most dedicated flirt.  
It was clear how tired he was by the noticeable slump in his shoulders and drooping cat ears. Understandable, since it was well past midnight. She had half a mind to chastise him and send him home to bed- Frankly, she ought to be asleep too.  
It was the thought of more grimacing faces in the ballroom class tomorrow and Chat’s slowly reddening ears and embarrassed stammering that stopped her.  
She did need the practice, and well, if he was offering...

_“Yes, Chat. If you're not busy, then I could really use a hand... I kind of suck.”_

Marinette smiled a little nervously at Chat’s blank expression. His eyes flickered between her face and her hand.  
_Oh._  
She dropped his belt tail. Chat blinked twice and Marinette could pinpoint the precise moment her words sank in, his expression quickly turning to one of excitement; lips pulling back to reveal a toothy grin.

“Alright, let’s do this!” He dropped at the waist into a mock bow. “When we’re through, Princess, you shall go to the ball.” 

“What are you, my fairy godmother?” He wiggled his eyebrows, suggestively and Marinette giggled at his theatrics. “You’re such a dork.” 

“What was that, Princess?”

“Let’s get to work! Is what I said.” She plastered on a sugary sweet smile and Chat seemed to buy it. “Where do you want to start?”

“Hmm. Let me think…” He said, circling Marinette’s balcony thoughtfully, stroking his chin. And if he noticed Marinette’s eyes rolling sky-high, he didn’t react. His gaze flickered over to her laptop. It was unlocked and still open on her music player, paused mid-song. He stalked over and tapped at the keys a little awkwardly around his claws.

“Changing the music?”

“That song before was probably a bit too fast for beginners.” He admitted. “I'm looking for something slower.”

His leather tail swung lazily from side to side, grazing the ground. Marinette watched the movement, coming to a realisation that relaxed moments she spent with Chat were few and far between. This thought came to her as she appreciated the sculpted calves and thighs behind the faux tail.  
It wasn't exactly like she had time, as Ladybug, to go checking out her partner, mid akuma-attack. But Chat’s butt was a sculpted thing of beauty. Marinette could appreciate that.  
As a woman.  
Who was attracted to the opposite sex.  
It was not weird to be checking him out, she told herself- With all those chiseled muscles, it would be rude not to appreciate them.  
Marinette wasn’t proud but she apparently had a type. Tall, blonde and far too pretty for their own good. If it wasn't for all his outrageous flirting, the whole secret identities conundrum and a certain classmate of hers, she might've been quite attracted to Chat.  
That line of thought was instantly banished as Chat stepped away from her laptop.

“-Ah, here we go.” His words were followed shortly by music. The rhythm was notably slower than the song she had danced to earlier with him, which was disheartening on some level.

“How about you show me what you already know?” 

Marinette nodded in agreement. It was a good idea. Much more sensible than staring at Chat’s ass all evening. Quickly, she ran through the moves they’d been taught; Listing their names and doing a little demonstration of each that she remembered. Head cocked to the side in thought, Chat listened and watched, nodding here and there. 

“Okay, you’ve got the basic steps but your timing is off...” Standing shoulder to shoulder, Chat demonstrated the steps again, pointing out her mistakes. She fell into step rather easily, concentrating on his feet and copying. 

“There you go, much better. Now-” Marinette let out a mortifying squeak of surprise as Chat took her by the hand and pulled her very, very close. “Let’s try this properly.”

“I'm not so sure this is a good idea...” She muttered, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Don't worry, another benefit of being me, the suit’s magic. You couldn't bruise my toes even if you tried real hard.”

“Thanks... I think.” 

“That and I have complete faith in you.”

“Nice save.”

 

Gingerly, she placed a hand on his shoulder, thinking hard about footwork and not about how awkward she felt. Incidentally, the shoulder was nicely muscled and Marinette deeply regretted contemplating Chat’s body earlier, as now she could think of little else. She did her best not to give the hand on her waist a second thought and let his closeness bother her. 

Too late. 

He probably thought that rubbing circles with his thumb, on her waist, was comforting, but truthfully it was making her anxious. Well, more anxious. Warmth emanated from his hands through her clothes and his leather suit. Even though she was wearing, arguably, more layers than her ladybug get up, it felt like she was wearing fewer. Funny that.  
Chewing on her bottom lip, she tried to focus hard on the timing and her feet, instead. The pair walked through the dance slowly, backwards and forwards in time to the music. Suddenly, Chat’s amused voice in her ear startled her. 

“Try not to look at your feet so much, Marinette. They'll move without you watching them.” He teased. Perhaps she had been concentrating a bit too hard.

“That’s easy for you to say!” She felt her cheeks heat, from both his comment and proximity. What timing she’d had was quickly lost. “Sorry.”

“Don't be.” He chuckled. “That was good. Let’s go again, this time I'll move around more. Try and read my cues for where I'm going to lead. Okay?”

“Okay.” She said, struggling not to feel sceptical. The instructors had said something similar about reading cues, not that it had helped her. Returning to their positions, Marinette tried to relax as they started over. She picked a tuft of blonde hair, tucked behind his ear to focus on.  
There were a few false starts where Marinette tried to waltz in a different direction than Chat was directing. After a few rounds of that, Marinette had expected Chat to lose his patience, but he didn’t. Each time he laughed good-naturedly and they went from the top. It was a lot less humiliating than she remembered it being. 

 

“So, Princess, do you usually stay up this late? Don’t you have school?”

“Don’t you?” She asked, directing the question at him instead.

“Well, yes.” He paused, before sighing dramatically. “But I’m used to late nights. It’s the price I have to pay to lead a double life.”

“You poor, poor kitten.” She said, lending mock sympathy.

“Don’t worry. If I got any more beauty sleep, all the women in Paris might fall madly in love with me.” He fluttered his lashes and Marinette snorted.

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“Me-ouch. So harsh.” He stuck his tongue out at her. “But seriously, aren’t you afraid of waking up late for school?” He was genuinely curious, but Marinette laughed. If only he knew.

“I’m _always_ late.” She said between giggles. “Most nights, I lose track of time, designing this or that. Guess I’m a bit of a hopeless case.”

“Well, I don’t know about that.”

“Oh?”

“Seems like your waltzing has improved at the very least.” 

“It... has?” Somehow Marinette’s attention had been drawn away from her feet and during the conversation, they’d made several rotations of her balcony. She hadn’t even noticed.  
Her lips dropped into a surprised ‘Oh’, followed by a gleeful squeal. Her triumphant expression was matched by Chat’s satisfied one. His face lit up, and a mischievous grin was the only indication he gave before dropping the hand around her waist. Her momentum carried her around in a twirl and she was surprised to find herself, all of a sudden, staring up into deep green eyes, held in a low dip. Her unexpected breathlessness had little to do with waltzing.  
Chat pulled her back up and she beamed at him, feeling giddy with success. 

“Thank you so, so much!” She flung her arms around his neck, both of them laughing. 

Insistent beeping from Chat’s miraculous cut through the music and their laughter. He pulled away to check the ring and Marinette dropped her hands back to her sides, quickly remembering that she was actually Ladybug and this was Chat. 

“I’ve got to go.” He said sheepishly. “But I think you've got it.”

“Thanks again, Chat noir. You make a pretty good teacher.” 

“Anytime, Princess.” He leapt up onto her railing and threw her wink. With that he flipped backwards off the balcony, into the night.

* * *

About ten minutes later, Marinette face-planted onto her bed and groaned into the nearest pillow. She’d changed into pyjamas and her thoughts were spiralling.

Kudos to him, it seemed like Chat had been everywhere tonight. Whether that was purely coincidental, Marinette couldn’t say, but he had really helped her. She felt more confident and ready for the class tomorrow. Only real downfall was that now, she had tall, good-looking blondes on the brain. 

Although if she was being honest with herself, she’d been thinking about one particular blonde, well before Chat had prowled along.

Adrien. Adrien Agreste. 

Here she was: eighteen years of age, in her final year of school and (just about) ready to face the world. Yet still, she couldn’t shake her teenage crush. It ought to be well behind her, but still, the sight of Adrien every single day made her stomach flutter. She didn’t stutter around him anymore and the photograph collages on her bedroom walls had long since been ripped down, but still, her heart raced whenever he spoke to her, without fail. The obsession was over but her feelings lingered on.  
She’d had plenty of occasions to confess how she felt, but the timing had never seemed right. Adrien was perfect and Marinette never was. Now, with everyone preparing to go separate ways, it didn’t seem like there was any point. Over the years, most of her friends had assumed that she had moved on. Even Alya- though she still occasionally tried her hand at some unwelcome matchmaking. Marinette was fairly certain that Tikki and her parents knew better, but the topic was rarely brought up.

She couldn't believe she'd let herself daydream about Adrien, let herself pretend that she was dancing in his arms. But then Chat had found her and he had been wonderful. His patience and understanding was something she’d never really experienced first hand before. It was a totally different side to him. Alya was right, ballroom dancing was romantic- enough to make her feel like there might have been a spark between her and Chat.  
But no.  
No way.  
Not possible. Her and Chat? He barely knew her as Marinette. And he was never serious with her when she was Ladybug.  
Speaking of which, she really hoped he didn’t take that kiss on the cheek from earlier to heart. It had been a long, long time since he’d confessed real feelings for her heroine alter-ego, but she was well aware of how easy it was to reignite old feelings. Toying with him was the last thing she wanted to do. He was her partner. She'd try to be more careful.

 

“That was nice of Chat, huh Marinette?” said Tikki. Her voice was muffled by the pillow, but Marinette felt the kwami settle down beside her. She flipped onto her back to reply.

“It was nice,” She agreed, with a smile. “-but I think he offered out of pity more than anything.”

“I wouldn’t call it pity. Everyone needs help sometimes, Marinette, and it paid off too!” 

“I know, I know...”

“But?” Tikki prompted as her sentence trailed off. Marinette didn’t reply immediately.

“...Do you think it was okay?”

“What do you mean?” Her small face scrunched up in confusion.

“Well, Chat isn't stupid. I was playing that same song when he arrived. You… You don’t think he’ll suspect anything after tonight, do you? About Ladybug?” 

“If a curious cat like Chat noir thought you were Ladybug, you’d be the first to know.” Tikki giggled, knowingly. “It’ll be fine. In any case, there's no sense worrying about it now. Go to sleep.” She chimed.

“You’re right, as usual.” Marinette chuckled. “Good night, Tikki.” 

“Sleep tight, Marinette.” She patted her charge’s cheek, affectionately.

* * *

Adrien slipped through the open window into his dark room, and released his transformation. With a green flash, Plagg pinwheeled out of the miraculous and thumped into a pillow on the sofa.

“Where’s the cheese, kid.” He yawned wide for extra effect. “Gotta get my strength back after you spent all night wasting my energy.” 

“Nice to see you too, Plagg.”

“Yeah, you too. Now, get me a whole wheel of Camembert, please. I’ve gotta drown out the memories of you dancing with your girlfriends, somehow.”

“She’s not- I- Marinette’s just-” He started to mumble in protest, but thought better of it. He was too tired to put a coherent sentence together, let alone engage Plagg in another pointless argument. Edging his bedroom door open, he peeked out into the corridor and snuck down to the kitchen. He wondered if Ladybug had as much trouble with her kwami. Somehow he doubted it. Ladybug had all the luck.

There weren’t many people about the mansion at three in the morning and even less so than usual. Gabriel Agreste had been away on business in Milan for a fortnight now, taking several members of the household along with him. Adrien had been glad of the gorilla's absence and that Natalie hadn’t been on his back about timings to all his activities.  
It didn’t take long to find an unopened packet of Camembert. Adrien had been squirrelling away a few wheels every week. One of the many empty cupboards in the kitchen had become a secret hoard, which Plagg (thankfully) hadn’t discovered yet. He crept back the way he came.  
Carefully closing his bedroom door behind him, he tossed the cheese in his kwami’s direction.  
The bed was all made up and he sank into it as he lay back. He dropped his arms over his head, unwilling to watch Plagg inhale cheese. It wasn’t a pleasant sight.  
His head spun as a wave of drowsiness hit him.

It had been quite the night for Chat Noir. Two waltzing girls. Maybe Ladybug was right and he really was making a habit of dancing with unsuspecting girls. Not that he could really compare the two in ability.  
His mind went straight to his classmate and he winced. Poor Marinette. Her predicament was entirely his fault. She seemed to have grasped the basics really well after practicing slowly. Hopefully, that would be okay to get her through the next class. He still felt guilty though.

 

“You’re quiet,” Plagg called from across the room. “I bet you’re thinking about that kiss from Ladybug.”

“I wasn’t actually.” Except now he was. He was glad Plagg couldn’t see his pink cheeks. 

“Oh? Your cute, little classmate, then?” 

“C’mon, Plagg. Marinette’s just a friend.” The kwami snorted. 

“Bit odd that both of them were dancing the night away, don’t you think?” 

“It... It is actually.” Surprisingly, Plagg had a point. Come to think of it, why had Ladybug been dancing. He’d not gotten around to asking.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Plagg muttered, quietly enough that Adrien didn’t catch his words. “Good night, Kid.”

“-Oh. Night, Plagg.”

In fact, now Adrien thought about it, it was a bit strange wasn’t it? Dancing alone, so late at night. He was sure Ladybug had her reasons... Technically, Marinette had been doing the same thing-  
Adrien froze. 

_Marinette had been doing the same thing._

_Marinette and Ladybug…_

_Ladybug and Marinette..._

… Could Ladybug be taking dance classes, too? 

She had said that she didn't dance, so why else would she have been practicing. In the three years they’d known each other, she'd never said anything about dancing. Although his lady was pretty private- goodness knows how many times she’d scolded him for prying- you’d have thought it would’ve come up at some point. Therefore, it must have been a recent development. Maybe she was in the same class as Marinette!  
Out of costume.  
As a civilian. 

Obviously, he didn’t want to out Ladybug’s identity before she was ready, but chances were that at some point, they’d learn who the other person was. And when that happened, if they somehow already knew each other as normal people... Well, that couldn’t possibly hurt.  
Curiosity might have killed the cat, but getting to know ladybug behind the mask was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Marinette.  
> Oh Adrien.  
> Those two. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
